


from this moment, go forward

by contentiousShimadaisms



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gay, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Minor Violence, Self-Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 04:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contentiousShimadaisms/pseuds/contentiousShimadaisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>something small and sfw for my lovely people. ♡₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎ //</p>
    </blockquote>





	from this moment, go forward

**Author's Note:**

> something small and sfw for my lovely people. ♡₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎ //

Genji took Hanzo's hand and Hanzo let him. Genji was grinning, his teeth a flash of white. His green scarf flapped as it trailed behind him. Hanzo had bought the scarf for him a week ago as a birthday gift. Besides a single wash, Genji hadn't taken it off.

The cherry blossom petals danced in the breeze.

"Come on, let's go!" Genji exclaimed.

Hanzo tried not to let his irritation show. "Where are we going?" he asked as he let his little brother pull him along.

"I don't know," Genji replied. His hand was warm. "Let's run around. Let's get out of here. It's so nice out and so stuffy indoors."

The familiar streets of Hanamura were rather bare at night, especially when one got closer to the Shimada castle. With the exception of evening arcade gamers and some hungry patrons of Rikimaru Ramen Shop, few people were out and about.

"We have to go back home," Hanzo said, trying to sound stern.

A peal of laughter rang out into the air, sweet and joyful. Genji's, of course. But the sound made the corner of Hanzo's mouth twitch up, almost tugging his features into a smile.

Genji gave Hanzo's hand another pull. "Okay, _anija,"_ he said.

The doors to the castle were closed, but that was no issue for either brother. They scaled the wall and, from the left platform, jumped to the wooden ledge. There were guards around. They paid the brothers no mind, used to them dropping in at odd times of the night. If they were to be punished for being late, their father would see to that.

Genji greeted the guards, Hanzo tossed in his own stiff greetings. It was hard to sound serious when he was still being pressed into a run. There was no time for idle chitchat.

They reached the courtyard. Genji finally let go of Hanzo's hand, and the sudden cold that touched it made Hanzo shiver just a bit.

"The sky is pretty, don't you think?" Genji asked, looking up with a content smile.

"It is," Hanzo said.

For a few more beats of precious silence, they watched the stars twinkle above the cherry blossom branches and flowers.

"Thank you for the scarf, _anija._ I love it."

Hanzo huffed. "Idiot, you've thanked me ten times a day since I gave it to you," he said. His words were hardly polite, but his gaze was all softness. "It's not much for your sixteenth birthday, is it?"

Genji punched Hanzo's shoulder lightly. "I don't care, it's my favourite gift," he said.

"Well green _is_ your favourite colour."

"It is," Genji said with a nod. "I love green. I love the scarf. And I love you, _anija."_

Hanzo was taken by surprise by Genji's hug. His arms eventually returned the embrace. Genji pulled back, starlight blazing in his eyes. Hanzo smiled and pecked Genji's forehead.

"I love you too, little sparrow."

 

Genji had worn the scarf for the rest of spring. When summer rolled around, he kept it safe in his room. On occasion, he wore it around his waist like a stylish belt. Genji went out often, donning clothes less formal than those he and Hanzo were to wear in the castle. He liked wearing the scarf. The sight of it made Hanzo smile when Genji wasn't looking at him.

"I'm going out, _anija,"_ Genji said. It was breezy out, not too hot. The scarf was wrapped loosely around Genji's neck.

"Alright," Hanzo said, nocking another arrow. He let it fly, and it hit the centre of the target.

Genji applauded and Hanzo rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Genji asked. "Maybe you'll make some new friends."

Hanzo didn't go out often. He was usually accompanied by a bodyguard if he was heading out into the city proper, but he had little desire to do so. The district of Hanamura offered Hanzo enough, and even then, he didn't tend to leave the castle grounds. Genji knew and understood that Hanzo did not like company, but that didn't stop him from trying to get Hanzo to join him on his escapades.

Genji thought Hanzo needed more excitement in his life. He blinked, his bright eyes beautiful in the sunlight.

"Not today," Hanzo said, ruffling Genji's hair. Hair product stuck to his palm and he had the good grace not to wipe it off immediately.

Genji pouted. "Why not, _anija?_ You can't stay here everyday. Even our tutors think you should go out sometimes."

"But not Father."

"Father's too protective! I'm sixteen, you're nineteen, and we can handle ourselves. We have bodyguards... _And_ there are people all over Hanamura keeping an eye out for us when we leave the castle, so why worry?"

"I'm not worried. It is simply a matter of preferring to be alone."

"Okay, _anija,_ but spend some time with me later," Genji said, with a tone of sorrow in his words. Hanzo's heart twinged even though he knew Genji wasn't really sad, just disappointed.

Hanzo took Genji's hand, felt his heat through the glove. He felt Genji's skin on his fingers. The touch sustained him.

"Of course, Genji."

Genji clasped his hand around Hanzo's, giving it a quick, desperate squeeze. His hug was equally desperate, but not as quick. Genji's chin rested on Hanzo's shoulder. Genji didn't let go until he felt Hanzo turn his head to peck Genji's cheek.

 

Genji was devastated when the scarf was torn because one of his friends was being stupid and too rough with him in their joking shoves and punches and pulls. Genji spent much of his time with a rowdy group, but he was still upset. Hanzo had been there too. It was one of the very rare nights he'd chosen to humour Genji and spend some time with him.

Hanzo knew Genji was vain. He wasn't careful and he wasn't afraid to be as rambunctious as his friends, but he took good care of himself and his clothes and possessions. It made sense that Genji wouldn't be happy about the scarf, but he was more upset than Hanzo had expected. Sentimental value, of course.

Apart from the summer, Genji had taken to wearing it almost every single day. Hanzo was personally surprised it had lasted as long as it did, all things considered.

When the scarf was torn, Hanzo read Genji's sour mood immediately. He took Genji's wrist and pulled him away from his friend, whom he was shouting expletives at. He whispered quick, quiet, pointless words of soft reassurance into Genji's ear as his friend apologized profusely.

One did not want to anger a dragon, after all.

Genji calmed down eventually. The lightning crackling around him faded away. By the end of the night, he was in high spirits again. He forgave his friend. Of course he did. Genji wasn't one to hold a grudge over something so silly.

But as he walked home with Hanzo, holding the scarf in his hands, he looked sad.

"It's just a scarf," Hanzo said lightly.

"I know, but it was a gift, _anija._ I should've been more careful with it."

"It would've happened sooner or later. I'll sew it back together for you."

"You don't have to do that." Genji gave a smile. "Besides, you can't sew."

Hanzo scoffed at the silly barb.

The two were quiet as they approached the castle doors.

"I'll buy you a new scarf, little sparrow."

"You shouldn't spoil me, _anija._ Father wouldn't approve."

Hanzo raised his eyebrows. "So?" he asked, a challenge.

Genji brought his hand up to Hanzo's face and patted his cheek in a patronizing gesture. Hanzo stiffened out of indignance.

"You're such a bad liar, _anija._ I know you care about what he thinks."

"Whatever," Hanzo grumbled.

Genji took Hanzo's hand, and Hanzo relaxed involuntarily. Genji's touch was relaxing. Comforting. Familiar. Him taking Hanzo's hand in his own, or Hanzo doing the same to Genji, whichever it was, it didn't matter. It meant the same thing.

_I'm here now. I'm here for you. I care about you. Hold onto me. I love you._

The single, simple touch said leagues more than words ever could. So Hanzo calmed down even though he wasn't consciously aware of doing so. But Genji could feel him relax, worry and annoyance melting away. Genji wasn't aware of the same happening to himself, but it did. With Hanzo's hand held in his, he forgot about the torn scarf.

"Let's go," Genji said.

Hanzo gave a nod, and they scaled the wall one after the other.

 

Genji's outings became more and more frequent over the years.

He wasn't dedicated to making all his lessons, whereas Hanzo remained studious and even showed how he could be good leader and strategize. His father was proud, though he rarely voiced it.

Both brothers were excellent fighters. They would spar on occasion, but it was when they worked together that they were truly a force to be reckoned with. To fight one brother was difficult enough; they were so skilled. To fight both, if there was ever a serious fight, would certainly be a death sentence for their opposition.

Genji indulged in such fantasies sometimes, talking late at night or in idle pockets during the day to Hanzo. He smiled sweetly, detailing how very interesting such a fight would be. Hanzo was amused, but he didn't like to think about it. Thinking about him and Genji fighting together inevitably meant thinking about Genji getting hurt. He was good, but even an experienced fighter could get hurt.

Hanzo didn't like to think about Genji getting hurt.

Luckily for his squeamishness on the matter, Genji didn't talk too much about those scenarios. He didn't like being cooped up in the castle, and to force him to stay was like trying to keep a wild bird in a cage. He would be unhappy. Perhaps that was why he was allowed to wander. People were rather fond of him, anyway. There was nothing to worry about.

Hanzo didn't worry. He spent time talking to people in the clan, occasionally to his father. He was thorough with his lessons and did all of his work quietly, without protest. He sharpened his skills. He shot arrows. He attended meals.

He missed Genji.

Even then, he covered for his brother. Not that he had to do that much; everyone knew what Genji Shimada was up to outside of the castle. He was an unruly, wild 19-year old. He'd built his reputation as a playboy. Nobody could control him. If he wanted to sleep around with people, who was going to stop him?

It seemed to distress some of the clan's elders that the brothers' father was so willing to allow Genji to be the way he was. It mattered not, when Hanzo was the one who faced the true pressure. Hanzo tried not to resent Genji for it. He knew he performed well, but it was hard to wipe away all the bitterness when the expectations were set so high for him.

Hanzo landed an arrow off the centre of the target, and exhaled in exasperation.

It was getting late, but Hanzo had enough light from a lantern to see the target. He didn't need the practice, not really. Archery and sword practice helped him relax and that made training sessions valuable. The motions were a part of him. He fired another arrow and reloaded with fluid grace. The moon above was a pale crescent.

He heard footsteps, and didn't bother turning around. He recognized the velvet tread.

"Good evening, Genji."

"Hey, _anija."_

"I am surprised you are not staying out late tonight."

"It's one in the morning, isn't it?"

Hanzo released the arrow and retrieved another.

"You know what I mean, Genji."

Of course Genji knew. He could tell Hanzo sounded surprised, though perhaps not genuinely so, that Genji hadn't chosen to stay the night with someone else. Maybe at their home, or in a love hotel, or somewhere else that was just as questionable.

"I wanted to come home. Haven't you missed me, _anija?"_

Hanzo hit the centre of the target and drew yet another arrow.

 _Yes,_ he thought.

"Do not flatter yourself," he said.

Normally, he'd expect a mock-sad _"That's so rude,_ anija," but was confused to be met with silence from his brother behind him. He lowered the bow as he turned to see Genji looking hurt. Not pretending. Actually hurt. Actually sad. He was far from devastated, but it was very clear that Hanzo's words had wounded him.

"I was kidding," Hanzo said, guilt inching into him.

Genji held his gaze for a beat before looking down. He inhaled and exhaled silently. "I know," he said. The words were small.

Hanzo dropped the bow and arrow to the grass and approached Genji. He tensed at the subconscious realization: Genji had been drinking. He wasn't completely drunk, but he was most definitely not sober.

"Hanzo," Genji said softly.

Perhaps out of reflex, Hanzo replied, "Genji." It was rare that Genji called him by his name.

"I missed you, _anija,"_ Genji said. His words were a plaintive mewl, the kind that made Hanzo soften regardless of what was going on. Regardless of how sad, angry, frustrated, pissed off he was.

"I'm right here," he said, taking Genji's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Up close, Hanzo could just barely make out the blush gracing Genji's cheeks. He had a distant look in his eyes. He reached a hand inside his jacket and pulled out a flask, giving it to Hanzo.

"Drink it," Genji urged.

Hanzo was not particularly fond of alcohol. It was advantageous to have a clear head at all times. But he didn't want to deny Genji. He caught a whiff of the unholy concoction within - definitely strong. Some mix of liquor and what might've been fruit juice or sickly sweet candy. The fumes alone were positively noxious, but Hanzo figured it would at least taste better than regular liquor.

Genji removed his jacket and took a seat on the grass, resting his back against the cobbled stone wall across from the targets embedded with arrows. Hanzo sat down next to him. Their arms were pressed together, hands still clasped together.

Hanzo lifted the flask to his lips and drank. He felt an immediate rush of nausea, bitterness, fire. Then - warmth that pooled and grew.

"I miss hanging out with you," Genji said. His thumb rubbed against the back of Hanzo's hand in little circles. "I miss talking to you."

"I am here for you, Genji," Hanzo said before taking another small sip.

"I know, _anija._ But I don't like being in here all day. I can't. Even if you're here, I just... I need to feel... free, I guess. I love our home but I love being outside of it more, is what it feels like. Even if you're in here." Genji gave an exhale that sounded like a wistful sigh. He pressed a little closer to Hanzo, and rested his head on Hanzo's shoulder. His hair tickled Hanzo's neck. "It's almost as if it wasn't meant to be, but I know that can't be true."

Hanzo managed another few swallows of alcohol before he had to stop. If he had another, he might throw up. He had to pace himself.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, unsure of what Genji was referring to. "What wasn't meant to be?"

Genji didn't reply. Hanzo had another sip, then two, then three. He was nauseous. He let go of Genji's hand to screw the top back on, and handed the flask back. Hanzo thought he'd fallen asleep, but he eventually took the flask and tucked it back into his jacket. Wordlessly, Genji held Hanzo's hand again. Comforting. Warm. Familiar.

_I'm here now. I'm here for you. I care about you. Hold onto me..._

"You don't drink often, do you?" Hanzo asked.

"No," Genji replied. "Only sometimes. It's fun. But only sometimes."

"You are not having fun now," Hanzo said, seized by a ridiculous anxious thought about not being nearly as entertaining as Genji's friends were.

Genji gave a contented hum. "I like sitting with you, _anija,"_ he said.

"And you enjoy this? This... this foggy feeling?" Hanzo asked.

"Mhm," Genji said with a nod. "There's less thinking, and more doing. Fewer worries. Fewer concerns."

"Is that a good thing?" Hanzo asked. The question had been presented softly, but it was almost a challenge.

"You can't worry all the time, _anija._ Neither can I."

Hanzo was amused. "Really, now." He felt the shake of Genji's arm against his from his little laugh.

"I love you, _anija."_

"I love you too, my sparrow."

They were quiet again.

Genji's voice was hardly even a whisper when he spoke: "Why don't I prove it to you?"

"Prove what?"

"That a person can't worry all the time," Genji replied. "Then maybe you can help prove, just maybe, it was meant to be."

Hanzo was intrigued. "Alright," he said. "Prove it to me."

"Close your eyes. I have a gift for you."

"You don't have to buy me anything, Genji. You know that," Hanzo said. But he complied, and closed his eyes. His heartbeat quickened as it always did when he couldn't see or hear for whatever reason. He depended on his senses because they would keep him alive in a fight. Not that it mattered now; he was with Genji. He trusted Genji.

Totally, utterly, completely.

He felt Genji's palm pressed against his. He felt Genji's arm shift.

Then he felt heat, undeniably close to his face. If he wasn't already tipsy, he would've flushed from feeling that heat. A part of him wasn't sure where it was coming from. A part of him knew already. But there was a hot breath and every fibre of his being screamed at him to move, to stop this. Because even though he'd been in few relationships, taken few lovers, he knew.

He didn't move.

Instead, he let it happen.

Even though he was expecting it, he was still surprised to feel Genji's soft lips press to his. He was warm and he tasted like that awful sweet liquor. Hanzo felt a sudden stab of self-consciousness, knowing his lips were chapped, but then he realized it didn't matter because neither of them was sober and this was happening.

 _This is wrong,_ he thought. _This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong,_ his mind screamed at him. _Stop this. Stop it! Stop it, stop it! Stop it now! Stop your brother! Stop yourself! What are you doing?!_

But then he felt Genji's lips working his, and before he knew it, his mouth was open, their tongues were pushed closer together than their sweating palms.

_You're kissing your little brother, you sick bastard._

Hanzo nipped Genji's lower lip and Genji moaned a little before kissing him again.

_You have to stop! Stop! Stop it! Stop doing this! You're sick, you're fucked up! Stop!_

The sound undid Hanzo completely.

_Pull away, before it's too late._

Hanzo opened his eyes just a bit. He saw Genji's eyes flutter open before closing, then he let Hanzo's tongue into his mouth again. Hanzo's heart skipped a beat. He had no idea how he'd gotten into this situation. Genji's eyes were beautiful half-lidded. His long, dark lashes made him look almost delicate.

_What are you doing, Hanzo?_

With the fog of alcohol, Hanzo didn't need to answer his distressed thoughts. All he could think about was Genji, and the way he tasted, how he was so warm, how he looked so good. He was attractive. Of course Hanzo knew that.

 _"Anija,"_ Genji managed to say, the single word sounding strained.

Hanzo couldn't stop himself as he pulled back. His unoccupied hand reached over to grab the side of Genji's neck to tilt his head up. He planted a kiss on Genji's throat. Genji gasped. His own unoccupied hand flew to the back of Hanzo's head, urging him to do it again. Hanzo kissed and nipped and sucked. Teasing gestures that made Genji whimper and whine.

Marks would be left. Hanzo was not gentle. Genji's breaths grew uneven.

_You can't keep doing this, Hanzo. It's not right. Let him go. This is fucked up. You can't be into your little brother._

And with that, Hanzo regained his senses. The haze of desire parted enough for him to pull away. The desperate look on Genji's face, in his beautiful eyes, made Hanzo want to kiss him again. He didn't.

 _"Anija,"_ Genji moaned. He was all softness, sweetness.

Hanzo wanted him.

He was not sure where his sudden want came from. He'd never felt anything like it before. He'd never been jealous of Genji's many partners. He'd never looked at Genji and felt a rush of need for him. It was as if tasting him unlocked something within Hanzo, something inexplicable rooted deep inside of him that he himself did not understand.

Love.

He was a little scared and a little excited at the same time.

He wasn't sure what to feel.

He drank too much.

Genji clearly didn't want to let go, leaning in again, but Hanzo pulled away further.

"Please," Genji said, shaking his head the tiniest bit. His eyes glinted - tears? More desperation. Those were tears, weren't they?

"We can't," Hanzo said, sounding regretful, sounding bitter.

"Please, _anija."_

"I'm sorry, Genji."

_Run away, Hanzo. Get up, turn around, run away, and disappear now. Before he takes hold of your heart, before it's too late, before you have no chance of leaving. You sick bastard. You unbelievably sick, sick bastard._

Genji leaned in. Hanzo let him. Their lips brushed together, and Hanzo felt fire within him. He couldn't resist. He kissed Genji again. A short kiss this time.

_You kissed your little brother and you liked it._

Hanzo felt Genji's breath hitch. He let go of Genji's hand, and got up.

_You're sick._

Genji looked up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks. His expression was undeniably sad, and yet at the same time unreadable.

 _What is_ wrong _with you, Hanzo Shimada?_

Genji pulled his jacket on. Hanzo extended a hand. Tentatively, Genji took it. Hanzo helped him as he stood. For a while, they stared at each other.

Now everything had changed. What had just transpired would forever be etched into both brothers' minds as a turning point in their relationship. They could never go back from this moment.

Genji reached up to Hanzo's cheek, caressing it, almost. He brushed his thumb against Hanzo's lower lip, his touch light as moth wings.

"I love you, _anija."_

"I love you too, sparrow."

Genji smiled. Hanzo's heart was pounding so hard in his chest he felt sick.

_What have you done, Hanzo?_

Hanzo held Genji's face in both his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. Genji's eyes, deep brown, familiar, glittering in the night. The most wonderful gaze, one that made Hanzo feel warm all over. He melted. Absolutely melted. Hanzo kissed Genji.

Genji made a surprised noise in his throat before relaxing into Hanzo's touch. Trusting him. Maybe with his lips. Maybe with his feelings.

Totally, utterly, completely.

Hanzo felt a stirring within him. Yes, this was the point of no return. Nobody had ever been this pleasant for him. Nobody mattered to Hanzo nearly as much as Genji did. And how could they ever compete, anyway?

Hanzo parted first. He kissed Genji's cheeks, making the tears disappear with his lips. Genji, smiling, pet the back of Hanzo's head. They held each other's hands.

They slept separately, in their own rooms, but thinking of each other all night.

 

Genji didn't press Hanzo any further, though he spent more time at home. He wasn't always with Hanzo, sometimes he was sparring with someone, reading manga, or laughing at a silly video on the Internet. But sometimes he and Hanzo were alone, and they lounged together in companionable silence.

Hands clasped together.

The wind was sweet in its passing.

There were a few occasions in which Genji would catch Hanzo's eye and he'd smile. After a moment, Hanzo would smile back.

More expectations were being piled on Hanzo all the time. It felt like every five minutes he had a new task to complete. If Genji was around, they would talk about it. More often than not, Hanzo would simply hold Genji and stroke his hair until he relaxed as Genji drifted off.

Hanzo worked Genji's tousled green locks between his fingers. It was the repetition, the steady pattern that helped him calm down. With Genji laying on him, he could relax. Hanzo took a deep breath. Genji smelled nice. Familiar.

He wasn't quite asleep yet.

 _"Anija,"_ he murmured.

"Sleep, little sparrow."

Genji shifted until he was sitting on Hanzo's lap.

"What's wrong, _anija?"_

"Nothing, Genji."

Genji was clearly drowsy, but the stars glimmered in his eyes nonetheless. He was smarter than most people gave him credit for, more clever, and Hanzo knew that. But his chest ached, his head hurt, and he didn't want to talk.

Genji understood.

Of course he did.

He always did.

Hanzo reached a hand up and brushed a few strands of hair out of Genji's eyes before bringing his hand along the side of his face. Genji watched him, transfixed. The pads of Hanzo's fingertips just barely graced Genji's cheeks as Hanzo traced their slope, his palm settling down on his warm skin.

Hanzo thought about Genji often. His heart raced. When his thoughts weren't marred by severe, crushing guilt, he could feel the rays of love. A glow as warm as his brother. As warm as Genji's eyes, his beautiful dark eyes with long black lashes.

Hanzo leaned forward and Genji accepted the kiss.

"This is wrong," he said.

Genji blinked, then attempted a smile.

"It doesn't have to be," he said.

Hanzo could hear the slightest quiver in his voice, underneath the flood of confidence that Genji always held. But even with all that confidence, he couldn't hold back his insecurity. It made Hanzo's heart hurt.

Genji sifted through strands of Hanzo's hair. Hanzo tried to relax, feeling the warmth from Genji's fingertips, the warmth from his breaths, the heat from Genji's body lying on top of his.

"Sleep, _anija."_

Genji kissed Hanzo's neck with a feather-like touch. Even though he was being gentle, the skin-on-skin contact still made Hanzo feel sparks. Desire coursed through him and he was powerless to stop it. His pulse quickened under the brush of Genji's lips. Hanzo rested a hand on Genji's back, wanting to hold onto something.

"Rest," Genji whispered, the word tickling Hanzo's throat.

Genji relaxed, settling himself on top of Hanzo. Hanzo could feel his heartbeat. It made him smile. He closed his eyes to let sleep claim him. With Genji in his arms, he could shelve the stressful thoughts for later. He was sleepy, Genji was sleepy. They were safe and warm and together.

"For you, my sparrow," Hanzo replied. "Anything for you."

 

The vase was ugly. It had also been expensive, but it was an eyesore.

"You did the entire household a favour by breaking it," Genji commented as he and Hanzo stared at the shards on the floor. "Besides, it can be replaced."

"It's not that," Hanzo said with an irritated shake of the head. "It's... I did not mean to break it."

"It was a mistake," Genji soothed, placing his hand on Hanzo's shoulder.

Hanzo stiffened at the gesture. Just barely, but enough for Genji's gaze to dart aside as he removed his hand. Genji cleared his throat, then called for a servant. He asked if she could please clean up the mess before turning and leaving. Hanzo watched him go, feeling a wave of pain hit him right in the chest.

Hanzo retreated to his room, shutting the door behind himself. He studied his hands. Not a cut to be found, not even a scrape. It really had been an awful vase, but he felt bad about having broken it. He hadn't meant to lash out; it just sort of... happened.

Even after a long and intense sparring session - not with Genji - Hanzo hadn't worked out all of his frustration. He was disgusted with himself, he still hated himself with unrivalled fervour. In the haze of anger, he'd shouted vicious, pointless things.

Assorted phrases of anger, not directed at anyone. His sword had hit the vase, and it had gone tumbling onto the floor. The shards had flown.

Oh, well. Another reminder not to use weapons in the house. Hanzo still felt bad for it. Losing control was unsightly and unbecoming.

He hadn't meant for Genji to hear and come running. Genji, who'd taken his wrist, held it until the sword was dropped then carefully sheathed. Genji, whose eyes glimmered with concern and worry and love. Genji, whom Hanzo had snapped at before taking a deep breath and collecting himself. Genji, whose touch Hanzo had inadvertently rejected. Genji, who'd left the room now.

Shit.

Hanzo exited his room. He looked around. He approached Genji's room. The door was open and its interior was as messy as usual, but there was no sign of Genji. Hanzo looked around, but it seemed his little brother wasn't indoors. He could've been hiding, though that would be childish.

Genji had driven Hanzo and the servants up the wall many times in the past, when he was younger and even more unruly, by avoiding them. Hanzo almost smiled at the thought. Genji had always found it so funny to see the looks on everyone's faces, especially Hanzo's, when they finally yanked him out of his hiding place.

It seemed unlikely considering the present circumstances, so Hanzo went outside. The courtyard was pleasant in the evening as the sun continued its descent in the sky. The air was still, almost disconcertingly so. Hanzo didn't bother looking around, because he already knew where Genji was, and that was certainly not around the castle.

Hanzo considered texting him and quickly dismissed the idea. It would seem too desperate. Anyway, it wasn't a bad time for a stroll around Hanamura. Hanzo fetched his wallet from his room and climbed out of the castle grounds. The guards had offered to locate a bodyguard to accompany him, but Hanzo had ignored them. He had more important things on his mind.

Hanzo kept a close eye on the streets, which were already growing sparse. He didn't recognize any of the people around him as being Genji, nor were any of them Genji's close friends.

A pair of girls giggled as he passed them. A group of young adults chattered loudly, hovering around a vending machine. There was a father, and there was his daughter skipping ahead. There were a few people walking past, alone. But where was Genji?

The arcade seemed like a solid bet. 16-Bit Hero was loud even from outside, even though it was getting late. Its patrons didn't care, of course; they had games to play and conversations to participate in. Hanzo did not appreciate the noise level, but he knew Genji was fond of the place. People tapped at the machines and cheered on their friends. Hanzo scanned the rows as he walked past, still keeping a close eye out for that familiar shock of green hair.

The place had several floors, and Hanzo was seriously debating whether or not this ridiculous search was worth his time when he spotted a familiar shock of green hair.

Genji was sitting at a circular table, chatting animatedly with a pretty girl. He was grateful his brother had chosen to stop at the second floor as opposed to the third or fourth.

"...Oh, I know, right? Then he bought _another_ bubble tea, and he said something like, 'I'm collecting all the flavors'. It was taro, I think," the girl said, making Genji laugh.

"What other flavors did he order?" Genji asked.

"Hm... Lychee and honeydew, definitely. Mango too."

Hanzo was about to turn and leave, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

"Hey, did you want to sit down?" the girl called to him.

Shit!

Genji turned, saw Hanzo. They made eye contact for a split second and Hanzo's gut twisted with a myriad of strong feelings. Genji looked surprised.

"No," Hanzo muttered.

"Hanzo, come sit with us," Genji said, flashing a winning smile.

Hanzo shot him a withering look. He knew that Genji knew he didn't enjoy socializing, much less with strangers. He'd gotten used to Genji's close friends and their eccentricities, but random people was a different matter. Genji often teased him for being too stiff and formal.

"You know him?" the girl asked.

"Yeah," Genji said as Hanzo sat down beside him. "Hanzo, this is Tomiko. Tomiko, this is Hanzo."

"Nice to meet you," Tomiko said with a smile.

"And you as well," Hanzo replied. He heard Genji snort beside him and it was all he could do not to shove his brother off his chair.

The conversation turned mundane. Tomiko asked about the weather in Hanamura. Hanzo said it was nice. Genji complained about the cloudy days and lack of sun. Hanzo made a passing comment about bubble tea, and Genji urged Tomiko to share another story on the topic. It turned out she had a handful of anecdotes about bubble tea.

"Tomiko, didn't you need to go to the washroom?" Genji asked good-naturedly.

Tomiko rolled her eyes. "Yeah, about three stories ago. I'll be right back," she said, getting up.

When she was out of earshot, Genji turned to Hanzo.

"She's single, you know."

Hanzo squinted. "Should that be an item of my concern?" he asked.

"Well she's obviously interested in you," Genji said, giving Hanzo a knowing look with a smirk and half-lidded eyes.

Hanzo huffed, looking away. Wondering if Genji could see him blush in the dim arcade.

"Oh, _anija,_ it's been so long since you've slept with anyone."

"I don't even know her!" Hanzo exclaimed, indignant. "Besides, my sex life is none of your business."

Genji patted Hanzo's hand.

"That's the appeal of one night stands, you know."

"I'm sure you are an expert on the matter."

Genji gave a shrug. "I've had my share of fun, _anija,"_ he said. His expression turned almost sombre, though there was still starlight in his eyes. Hanzo tried not to stare. "Why did you come here?"

"To look for you."

"But _why?"_

Hanzo shifted in his seat. "I was... worried," he mumbled.

"Worried? You shouldn't be. After all, have I ever gotten myself into trouble in your absence?"

Hanzo laughed.

"Hey, sorry I took so long!" Tomiko said.

"Don't worry about it. Your eyeliner looks very nice."

Tomiko smiled gratefully. "Back at you," she said.

"Thank you. Now I have to go to the bathroom too."

Hanzo's gaze bored into Genji, who didn't turn around to meet it. He almost did, from the sheer force of Hanzo's pathos, but he didn't. And Hanzo was left with the random girl whom he'd just met.

"You're so lucky to be close to someone like Genji," Tomiko said, earnest. "I only wanted to visit this district for the day, and I didn't expect to make any new friends. I come from the city; I didn't grow up here. But Genji came right up to me to say hello, and he's so easy to talk to!"

"Yes, he is," Hanzo said, because he had no idea how to reply to the girl's sincerity.

"You know, I was going to ask if you wanted to leave. Together," Tomiko said, fixing Hanzo with a meaningful look.

"Oh," Hanzo said, completely out of useful words to offer.

"You really are quite handsome, and I wanted to tell you that. But... the way you laughed when Genji made that joke. The way he looks at you, the way he smiles at you. He's obviously interested in you." Tomiko shrugged. "I don't want to imply anything, of course. And maybe I'm reading both of you wrong, which is possible. Just... hold onto him, if that's not too forward of me to say. He's so sweet, and I think you're sweet too, even if you don't talk much. I hope this isn't too invasive."

"Do not worry about it," Hanzo said.

Tomiko sighed, resting her chin on her hand.

"Is it weird to you townsfolk? I shouldn't prod into the lives of cute boys, I know."

Hanzo wasn't sure if he was 'townsfolk', but he really didn't know what to say. Of course, his affairs were his and his alone. Personal and private. He suppressed a frown upon making the realization he'd yet to tell Tomiko of his and Genji's relationship. It was taboo, surely. He couldn't bear to have her thinking of him and Genji as potential boyfriends. It would be like lying by omission.

Tomiko looked up, and Hanzo followed the trail of her gaze to see Genji returning. Hanzo looked back down, fixing his gaze upon the lantern that sat on the table.

"We're brothers," Hanzo said.

Tomiko raised an eyebrow, and Hanzo couldn't tell if she believed him or not.

"So?" she replied.

Hanzo's eyes widened and he still held the expression of disbelief as Genji took his seat again.

"Did I miss any good jokes?" Genji asked.

"Tomiko thinks honeydew is better than strawberry," Hanzo said.

Tomiko gasped. "I do _not!"_ she exclaimed, sounding mock-scandalized. Then she grinned. "Okay, _maybe_ I do..."

Then Genji gasped, placing a hand on his chest as if stricken by her opinion.

Before long, the evening stretched into the night. Tomiko said she had to go before it got too late and they bid each other farewell. The brothers left the arcade together, all signs of the earlier tension having dissolved.

"So?" Genji asked, elbowing Hanzo.

"What?"

"Did she make a move on you? When I left for the restroom?"

Hanzo rolled his eyes. "No, Genji," he said.

Genji was about to reply when his phone buzzed. He fetched it, checked the recent notification, and laughed.

"She texted me. She says we'd be a cute couple."

Hanzo's cheeks flushed.

"I should've told her that we're brothers, then maybe it would've been easier for her to hit on you."

"I did."

"Hm?"

"I told her," Hanzo said. "When you left for the washroom."

"Oh! Then why would she text me that?" Genji put his phone away, set a hand to his cheek the way he did sometimes when he was flustered. "Maybe as a joke."

"Maybe," Hanzo said.

Back in the castle courtyard, Genji stopped to look at the sky. It was a clear night, the kind he liked best. Hanzo saw him smile. He had the sudden, very strong urge to kiss Genji. He tore his eyes away and continued indoors.

 

When their father got sick, Hanzo grew distant. Not just from Genji, but to everyone. To the world. His demeanour hardened until it was his protective shell. He wasn't cold, just neutral. Flat. Genji tried to talk to him, tried to get energy and life out of him. Tried to reassure him that the unthinkable wasn't happening.

"He'll be fine, _anija,"_ Genji said. He was desperate, literally clinging to Hanzo's sleeve with a hand.

Hanzo tugged his sleeve free of Genji's grip in one fluid motion. He returned to target practice and Genji, dejected, left him to his own devices.

 _This is for the best, Genji,_ Hanzo thought. _You'll see. You'll understand. Things can't be like how they used to. There is no space for softness. No space for weakness._

Hanzo let the arrow fly. His aim had gotten better over the years. He was twenty-seven, already the second best marksman on the castle grounds. The only person whom he'd yet to surpass was his archery teacher. But he was the single best swordsman. Few presented a challenge to him when he was sparring.

Hanzo retrieved his arrows, trying not to think of Genji and the pressure and the stress. Why couldn't life be easier than it was? This wasn't fair.

His father was dying.

The arrow hit the centre of the target.

 

Hanzo wasn't sure how or why he'd agreed to it, only that he'd agreed and now he couldn't take that back. He'd been monotonous, bordering on robotic. The elders knew best, of course, now that Father was dead. Genji had wept during the funeral service, but Hanzo didn't have a single tear to shed.

He did his best to push through his apathy. He didn't do a good job trying.

Genji spent more and more time away from home.

Hanzo was sure he missed Genji, but he did not allow himself to dwell on the matter. He couldn't afford it. The mental and emotional expenditure, the energy, surely it would be a waste. He'd get over it, wouldn't he?

What had happened with Genji years ago had been a fluke of sorts. Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Hanzo pretended not to notice Genji stealing looks at him, Genji gazing at him with softness and love. His features showing tenderness, compassion.

Hanzo missed him.

Hanzo missed the feel of his skin, his heat, his warmth.

He closed his eyes, the handle of his katana familiar in his grip. It was a magnificent blade, worthy of any experienced swordsman.

It was one of those rare nights Genji was home. That was good. That made Hanzo's job easier, because then he wouldn't have to hunt his brother down. He was sitting cross-legged on the big rock outside. Meditating, perhaps.

He had his own katana on him. Hanzo felt a beat of sadness inside of him.

This wouldn't be a fair fight.

Nor was it meant to be.

"Enjoying the night as well, brother?" Genji asked, not opening his eyes.

He looked almost peaceful sitting atop that rock, cherry blossom petals fluttering past him. Hanzo stared, trying to capture the image of Genji's calm. Trying to keep it close. He would want something to hold onto.

Genji seemed to detect that something was wrong. He turned to face Hanzo, looking concerned. Worried. And in his eyes, Hanzo could see it clear as a cloudless day - love. So much love, shining through Genji in glowing rays and the triumphant life of every spring. Hanzo wiped his face blank, clear of emotion.

Wordlessly, he drew his blade.

"What's the matter, Hanzo?" Genji asked, smiling.

But Hanzo was watching him closely, and he saw Genji's fingers twitch. He sensed danger. He knew he would have to draw his sword. It seemed he didn't want to.

"I'm sorry, Genji," Hanzo said. He couldn't tell if his voice betrayed him, if a sliver of pain had peeked through the words.

He did, however, see Genji looking hurt.

Genji hopped off the rock. He stood, facing Hanzo. Hanzo didn't move. Genji's hands balled into shaky fists and he finally drew his sword. With the cry of a desperate, wounded animal, Hanzo charged forward.

Genji's movements were fluid. Of course they were; he was light and quick on his feet. Like Hanzo, he was an excellent fighter. Nothing to scoff at, even if he was younger.

Hanzo had several opportunities to end it. A clean slice or pierce, and it'd all be over. He couldn't. His every move forced the fight to drag on longer. Anger, rage, hurt, sadness filled him. At some point, he swore he'd started crying. Maybe it was just the adrenaline and stress making him think that.

He lunged and struck again and again. Genji did his best to avoid Hanzo's blows, but it was difficult for him. The fight was skewed in Hanzo's favour, and both brothers knew. Genji was growing tired faster than Hanzo. Blood was blooming on his clothes. He would not dodge the next blow, but he could read Hanzo and knew how he would play it. Genji raised his blade to block. Hanzo struck it hard enough to chip his sword. Genji winced as if he himself had been hit.

Hanzo summoned his spirit dragons to attack. Genji's scream of pain tore through the air and straight through Hanzo's heart.

 

The years seemed to melt away. Genji healed.

Hanzo did not.

 

Genji wasn't surprised that Hanzo was so ready to fight him. Even after finding out who he was, Hanzo aimed his arrow towards Genji. Genji was a little hurt, but certainly not surprised. Not in the slightest.

Genji left Hanzo to his thoughts after their clash. He understood if Hanzo was conflicted over Genji being alive, albeit as a cyborg, and didn't want to interrupt his prayers or meditation or whatever he was doing in the castle. Lamenting the past ten years of mourning, perhaps.

From his time with Overwatch and his wanderings, he'd learned Hanzo's annual habits in Hanamura. Ten years and he'd hardly changed his schedule at all. After arriving at the castle, he'd take out the guards. He'd make his offering to Genji. He'd stay the night. He'd be gone by noon.

Genji slept in the courtyard, by the archery targets. He'd be woken up if Hanzo exited the castle, but he felt Hanzo would rather sleep indoors. If he could get any rest in there.

The dawn was pleasant. Genji stood and stretched. He meditated for a while under a chorus of birds. Still no sign of Hanzo, so he re-entered the castle like he owned the place. Which, in a way, he did.

Genji went to check Hanzo's room. He wondered how he'd greet his older brother. He wondered how Hanzo would react to seeing him again. Genji wasn't in the mood for another fight.

Hanzo wasn't in his room.

Standing in the place without Hanzo sent shivers up his spine. It was a little creepy; the place was so clean now. But when Genji looked at it, it still felt like it was Hanzo's living space. Like it belonged to Hanzo. Which, in a way, it did.

A thought.

Genji exited Hanzo's room and opened the door to his own.

"Hanzo."

Hanzo had been sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Meditating, perhaps. Brooding seemed much more likely; he had a dark cloud over him. His expression was unhappy.

"You have returned."

Genji cocked his head.

"This is my room, _anija."_

Hanzo flinched as if Genji had hit him.

"What are you doing in here?" Genji asked.

Hanzo didn't reply, so Genji took a seat on the floor next to him.

"I'll shoot-"

"No, you won't," Genji interrupted calmly.

Hanzo glared at him, eyes narrowed.

"How can you be so sure?"

A smile flickered onto Genji's face. He took his mask off and set it aside. He made eye contact with Hanzo. Hanzo, who looked and seemed so angry. Hanzo, consumed with his own self-hatred.

"Because I love you, _anija,_ and you love me, too."

Hanzo reached for his bow, sitting on the floor to the side opposite Genji. But Genji grabbed his wrist with one hand, the side of his face with the other. He kissed Hanzo.

Hanzo tensed. He shoved Genji off of him and pinned him to the floor, fury blazing in his dark eyes. Genji gave him a wanton smile and it made him angrier.

"It was a phase," Hanzo spat.

"What was, _anija?"_ Genji asked. He reached a hand up to brush Hanzo's cheek and Hanzo smacked it away.

"When we..." Hanzo began, trailing off. He shook his head. "When we kissed. We shouldn't have done it."

"But you wanted to."

"No," Hanzo said tersely.

"I wanted to," Genji replied, words soft.

"You were wrong to feel that way."

"Is that what you think?"

"Of course!"

Genji sighed.

"I don't believe you," he said.

"Why not?" Hanzo demanded.

"Our rooms are right next to each other. I heard you at night, you know. For years, if I listened closely, I could hear you and your words. And I know you could hear me, too, on other nights."

Hanzo's eyes widened.

Genji grinned.

"Stop," Hanzo said, sounding strained. Ashamed, perhaps.

"Dearest _anija..._ I won't tease you now. I know it must've been a shock for you to see me alive. So I'll hold onto my words."

Hanzo shook his head. Perhaps not out of disagreement, but sheer disbelief at the situation.

Genji took his face in both hands.

"I'm right here," he murmured.

When Genji pulled Hanzo in for a long kiss, Hanzo didn't pull away. He kissed back, and Genji was delighted to feel it. He could feel, practically taste Hanzo's desperation. His need.

Hanzo had craved Genji's touch, of course he had.

He hated himself for it.

He hated himself for loving it.

He shoved his tongue in Genji's mouth and hated himself for loving the feel and taste of it.

Still familiar, even after all these years. As if Hanzo had been kissing anyone while working as a mercenary. It wouldn't matter; even if he had been kissing and fucking people left and right, he would never forget Genji. And the way he kissed. The way he felt. The way he tasted.

Genji whined, and Hanzo knew right then and there: he was not going to escape this time. He knew Genji wanted him, had always known. He knew he wanted Genji, had never accepted it. With Genji beneath him now, he knew he would not be the first to let go.

 _"Anija,"_ Genji moaned into Hanzo's mouth, making Hanzo growl.

He clutched at the back of Hanzo's shirt, desperate to hold on. As if letting go would mean letting go of Hanzo himself.

"I've loved you for years. I still do. I always will," Genji said as Hanzo kissed his neck. "I was always in love with you, and even in the past decade, I've thought of you... I've thought about meeting you. Just like this. I wanted it to be just like this, _anija,_ in your arms."

"I am here now," Hanzo replied, his heart beating fast, the words not coming easily to him but coming out nonetheless. "I'm here for you."

_I care about you. Hold onto me._

Genji was warm. Hanzo held his hand, clasping it tightly.

_I love you._

"Stay with me, please, _anija."_

Hanzo took a deep breath before summoning the will to reply:

"For you, my sparrow. Anything for you."


End file.
